


Migraine Relief

by graphic_winged_observer



Series: Within the Walls of 221b [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-13
Updated: 2012-08-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 01:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/484994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graphic_winged_observer/pseuds/graphic_winged_observer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has just the right remedy for a migraine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Migraine Relief

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LostPoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostPoe/gifts).



> The characters of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson created by Sir Author Conan Doyle.  
> The setting of Sherlock (BBC) created by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss.  
> I do not own these characters, I’m just borrowing them for this idea.

Sherlock was quiet, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he watched John tentatively. The doctor was distant, his brow furrowed, a sure sign of one of his famous migraines. John pressed his fingers into his temples with a sigh, no amount of medicine ever helped relieve the headaches. Only silence, sleep, darkness, and the more than occasional fifth of whiskey. John shut down his laptop and made for the kitchen when Sherlock reached out a gentle hand to him.  
  
“Sit,” he said simply, drawing up his impossibly long legs to fill the seat of his armchair. Sherlock motioned to the floor, insisting that the doctor take a seat.  
  
“I’m not in the mood for games, Sherlock. I just want some sleep.” John pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes.  
  
“No games,” his voice was more defensive than he would have liked. “Just trying to help. Please, John.” The doctor cast tired and pained eyes to his friend before finally sitting before the armchair. He never saw the ghost of a smile cross Sherlock’s face. “Could you remove the jumper?” he questioned leaning over the armrest into the side table and pulling a bottle of hand lotion from the drawer. John obliged, though he wasn’t entirely sure of what was going on.  
  
Sherlock warmed a dollop of lotion between his large hands and began massaging John’s neck. His muscles were tense as the detective tried to work out the knots, but John wasn’t giving any intention of relaxing. Sherlock huffed before leaning down and pressing a cheek to the top of John’s head, his hair soft from the mornings shower.  
  
“If this is going to work, you need to relax a little,” Sherlock cooed quietly. He raised his head and slowly began running his fingers through the doctors short hair, causing John to tense for a moment before all tension escaped his shoulders. Sherlock was only semi-vigorous with his scalp massage, knowing the brain beneath was in pain, but when John sighed, he knew he was relaxed enough for a proper massage. Sherlock returned his languid hands to John’s neck and began massaging gentle circles into the flesh.  
  
It wasn’t long before Sherlock had worked John’s entire neck and shoulders. He warmed another dollop of lotion and tipped the doctors head back until it sat comfortably in his lap. There was a slight smile playing on John’s lips, his eyes closed as Sherlock began to gently massage his face. He had no idea Sherlock was versed in the art of massage, but was certainly pleased by it.  
  
Sherlock ran his fingers through John’s hair once more before smoothing out his forehead and eyebrows, being careful to avoid the doctors eyes entirely. John moaned when Sherlock moved down his temples to his ears, they’d always been a weak spot of his. The detective smiled at the notion, massaging the ears gently between his fingers, lingering on the tender lobes before moving to John’s cheeks and jaw then carefully down his neck.  
  
The pull on his neck was brilliant as Sherlock rolled John’s head left a few times before rolling it right and stretching the thick muscles; occasionally prodding his shoulders with learned fingers. He laid John’s head back in his lap and ran his hands through the doctors hair once more. John was visibly more relaxed, the furrow gone from his brow. Sherlock smiled and leaned down, placing a gentle upside down kiss on his friends lips.  
  
“Migraine gone?” Sherlock didn’t pull away from John to ask. He stayed close, their warm breath mingling in the space between their lips.  
  
“Thank you.” John lifted a hand and closed the space between their lips by pulling the detective close, a hand in his soft, dark curls.


End file.
